Take the Shot
by TurtleTracer
Summary: 'There were four of them, all in a sort of circle on the roof of the apartment building a few stories below mine. They were so stunning, so perfect, so surreal! So, naturally, I raised my camera and took a picture.' A story about the turtle's most dangerous enemy yet! A normal human photographer.
1. Chapter 1- A Husband

**I never imagined that I would write an OC story like this one. But I loved Randy! And I was passionate about this.**

 **In the turtle's world. Were the humans have firsthand proof that aliens and mutants are real possibilities. It isn't the common sighting of a pedestrian that the guys need to worry about. It's all that video out there. A photograph is solid proof of the difference between humans and them. It's something real that other humans can easily rally behind.**

 **The turtles worst sort of villain! A normal human photographer, and a good one at that.**

 **Take The Shot**

* * *

They were really, really something else!

They moved like dancers.

If the dancers are a bunch of teenage boys that just want to jump around the stage doing whatever they want.

Yet they were completely synchronized with each other, in that organized chaos kind of way. There were four of them, all in a sort of circle on the roof of the apartment building a few stories below mine. When one of them jumped another seemed to duck. When one of them kicked and spinned, another one punched and flipped, in one giant circle they opposed each other like that. It was so stunning, so perfect, so surreal!

So, naturally, I raised my camera and took a picture.

* * *

*twelve hours earlier*

My name is Randy Harris, photographer for the Naturalist's Magazine, and it's been a month, an entire month since I've been home.

But man was it worth it! I traveled throughout the continent of Asia taking pictures of that regions wildlife. And many of the pictures I took were spectacular works of art! I captured a barrage of images such as pandas wresting, tigers hunting, and giant salamanders swimming. But my proudest achievement was a photo of two gorgeous Gold-ringed Cat Snakes.

I was mudding my way through a riverine, when I spotted the yellow fellow alone basking on a rock. I was about to try and aggravate it, just a little, so I could get a nice shot of it about to strike. When I noticed another snake of the exact same species start to slither up the rock beside it. I waited, camera ready, for the encounter. The new snake slide up to the first one and laid its head right down next to its new buddy. The snakes lay there, cheek to cheek, and I took the shot.

The end result looked nothing less than romantic.

Oh don't get me wrong, I have no illusions about nature. It could have been just as likely that the snakes were about to eat each other, or maybe they would have just mated if they weren't to hungry that day. But honestly I would have taken the picture no matter which one of those things happened. There is something special in all kinds of shots, not just happy ones.

But those cute ones are the ones that sell. The ones that are released to the public to help advertise the species right to exist in this world overrun by humans. Shots like that make good advertising.

So it was with this picture that I managed to make my best money from the trip. I'm hearing rumors that my 'snakes in love,' photo is going to be the newest addition to the Smithsonians museum's collection in DC.

Overall I am extremely proud of the collection I was able to gather this time. I'm thinking about Greenland for my next trip. I haven't visited there yet. It would be a nice contrast to the many lush rural landscapes in Asia.

But for now, let's just get me home.

I look straight ahead, counting the beeps of the elevator as it climbs up my apartment building.

22 *Bing*

23*Bing*

24*Bing*

Here I go.

The elevator stops and opens its doors slowly. Slow enough for me to have time to tap my foot a couple of beats before I'm able to squeeze myself through a small opening in the door. The apartment building itself is relatively new, but for some reason this elevator always acts suspicious, personally I'm convinced that it's going to break down someday.

Probably with me in it.

My apartment is the closest one to this elevator. I walk up to my familiar front door and shift the brown envelope holding hard copies of all my hard work over the last month securely under my armpit. I raise my hand and give the door a few sharp knocks.

I hear shuffling from the other side. But the noise doesn't sound urgent. Whoever is moving is taking their time making their way to the door. I wait patiently and a moment later my wife opens the front door and looks at me with a small smile.

My beautiful wife.

Now in are late thirties she's aged remarkably. She's a shorter woman, only reaching about five foot in height. But then again I am a short man. Being only five six myself. Her hair is a light brown, being one of those rare types of hair that lies naturally straight down her back. Her eyes are a unique green that caught my attention almost instantly all those years ago. Age lines have done their usually job to her face. Outlining the creases were she smiles, frowns, and laughs. But they're soft lines, like the rest of her.

She's so pretty, wearing that nice pink dress with a matching headband and earrings. I can't wait to take a walk with her in the park and take her picture in front of that bush with the purple azaleas flowers. I'll ask her to wear that violet blouse that tightens around her small breasts very, very nicely.

…If she'll want to.

"I'm back Lizzie," I say making a move to walk passed her into the apartment.

She moves aside to let me enter, opening the door wider so I wouldn't have to. I look around, the place is just like I remembered it, a simple brown and white décor with my favorite pictures framed and littering the walls.

Man I love his place, after trudging through jungles and wetlands my nicely made apartment is always pleasant.

"I expected you back two hours ago," I hear Lizzie say behind me.

"Hmmmmm?"

I turn around only to see her back to me as she gently closes the door to our home.

"Sorry Liz," I apologize, "I wanted to have all of my pictures hard copied so I could add them to 'the collection' before I came home. Would you like to see them? I took this one shot of a Panda rolling around that I think you would really like."

Lizzie turns towards me with a frown on her face.

But I'm not sure why, I know that she loves pandas. Not as much a penguins. But Lizzie has always been one for those cuddly animals. I prefer the more hard edged hunters myself, but that's neither here nor there.

"Are you telling me Randy that I have been waiting for my husband to come home after a month of being away for two hours without even a phone call, just so that he could print some pictures that I know you can print tomorrow?" Lizzie says pushing her hair back over her shoulder with jerky angry movements.

Oh damn.

I guess she's right. But I mean what's the big deal. I was already gone for a month. Two hours doesn't make much of a difference. And we didn't have any dinner plans. I wasn't going to be home till eight even if I did come straight here.

But I have a feeling that that isn't exactly the smartest thing to say at this moment.

"Sorry, but why didn't you just call me if you wanted me home?" I ask, feeling a little indignant myself. I was in a very good mood. And I just wanted to show my friggen wife some nice pictures. She didn't have to start this fight.

"That's not the point Randy!" Lizzie snaps moving past me and sitting herself with a huff onto the coach.

I… That doesn't sound very reasonable. I look at her blankly for a moment, not saying a word.

"Sorry," I finally say shrugging.

I mean what else am I supposed to do?

"Whatever Randy," Lizzie says taking out her phone and typing something on it.

I wonder if she's texting her sister. Probably so she can complain about me. They are pretty close.

I sigh and walk over to my wife sitting beside her on the couch. This isn't what I was expecting, I'd ask if she wanted to go out and do something. But it's after ten and probably everything decent is closed at this hour. I didn't buy her anything in Asia, honestly I didn't even think to. She didn't ask for anything when we talked on the phone.

But I did get her something.

I open my brown envelope and ruffle through the photos.

Here we are.

I take out a shot of a baby monkey, looking down at me from a tree top branch.

This shot made me think of Lizzie.

Not because of the monkey thing! But uh, the cute thing, the baby monkey was acting pretty cute.

I turn towards Lizzie on the couch with a newly built smile on my face. "Lookie here Liz," I say inching the photo slowly into her line of sight, in-between her face and the cell phone. "This monkey was a cute one, he was yelling all the time, and tripped over the smallest branches-"

"Randy stop!" yells Lizzie lightly backhanding the picture away from her face. "It's obvious I'm trying to do something here. And you just put a picture in my face? I don't want to look at them right now. We already have dozens around the house every day. Did you ever think that maybe sometimes I just don't want to look at pictures?"

I stare at Lizzie, but she isn't looking at me. She's still just looking down at her phone. I hug the photo of the monkey protectively to my chest.

She didn't damage the picture, but she could have.

I still don't feel that angry. More confused and sad, whatever I'm feeling it sure as hell isn't happy. And apparently Lizzie doesn't plan on changing this atmosphere.

With a heavy sigh that I made sure she could hear I got up, placed my envelope on the coffee table, and left the apartment with my trusty camera still hanging around my neck.

I went to the roof of my apartment building. Somewhere I've gone in the past when I needed to be alone.

There are no stars out tonight. But really what did I expect? This isn't an environment for such beauty. This is the city, not some remote location in the forest. I went over to the edge of the roof to look out over the landscape of New York to try and at least find some beauty in the view.

When I saw them.

Those four creatures, but when I tried to take a picture of them.

They were gone.

Not even a ghost of them were caught on my film. Did they see me? Are they that fast? They were sure acting intelligent and wearing clothes.

I know what I saw. That was real. I saw them through my lens. That was real! They were real!

…..I bet no one has ever taken their picture.

Not a picture like I can take.

I bet no one knows about them.

A picture.

A picture.

Someone should take their picture.

They deserve for someone to take their picture.

And that someone is going to be me.

* * *

They didn't show up after that night. And I would know if they had. Now that I am back from Asia my work has given me the next nine days or so off from having to do, well basically anything.

I've only been sleeping during the day while Lizzie is off at work. And at night I'm up here, awake, waiting for those four to show up.

This whole scenario doesn't actually feel that strange to me. There was one time about five years back when I was going through a real nocturnal animal faze. I used to wait in the dark for hours right outside a badger's or a binturong's home just waiting for the animal to make an appearance.

This is how you catch animals, even intelligent ones.

But nothings showing up.

I know what I saw. I know they are out there! But New York is a big city. Who knows they may never pass through this area again! And I can't keep up this routine forever. Eventually work will start calling me in again to help with editing the photos.

They like to have me edit the nighttime shots. I seem to have a real gift for making those turn out amazing. A lot of my day shots are sent to my bud Joseph. We have a sort of editing arrangement going on. And both of us frequently send each other different photos to make sure we get the best end results.

I don't want to let Joseph down. He's expecting me to be back at work when I'm supposed to be. This whole 'wait them out,' plan just isn't going to cut it.

After another three hours of nothing while sitting on this roof I take out my small portable laptop from my camera case. The poor mini-computer looks like it's been beaten into a scratchy mess. Then thrown against a tree just to make absolutely sure there was at least one scar on every inch of it.

But the little trooper does its job well enough.

I open the laptop and sit on the unsteady metal folding chair that I've been bringing with me to these little roof stake outs. I open Facebook, Instagram, and all the other social media pages that I'm a part of.

It's not that surprising that I have quite a few followers on these things. I may not be a wiz at the computer. But Joseph taught me, as soon as he was able to get my stubborn ass to listen, the importance of advertising yourself through social media.

But my fame isn't what I need right now. I'm betting a lot on those four being intelligent. In fact this is probably way more intelligence than I should give them credit for. But if I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that they even have access to a computer, then I might as well go all out and say that they are intelligent enough to show up here and beat the living shit out of me if I go with this plan under my own name.

Bringing to much attention to them will accomplish nothing for me. I want their attention, nobody else's.

So I create a fake account for both sites starting with Facebook. I decide to name myself Joseph.

Just for some personal amusement.

It takes me a moment to think of what poor suckers address to use. But then I remember the perfect one. And over the next two days I begin my posts.

 _(I saw four real life human sized turtles on my neighbor's roof the other day! No fooling!) – Joseph Pidgen ;D_

 _(They were green and had brown shells.) – Joseph Pidgen ;D_

 _(Two of them had red bandanas can you believe that!?)- Joseph Pidgen ;D_

 _(Oh man, apparently I'm not the only one who has seen them. Other people have to. We are getting all of our evidence together to bring to the NBC New York News. They'll get to the bottom of this!)-Joseph Pidgen ;D_

The new page, the quick posts with a lack of many others, it just screamed T-R-A-P! And not a very good one at that. But with my limited social media skills, this was the best I could do. I sent the messages around the best I could. But really who knows how long till they even notice. If they ever notice.

Night three of this stupid social media play I drove to the fake address on my Facebook page.

Before I went to Asia I was passing through this very nice neighborhood. It is outside the city limits and deep into suburban territory. I remember driving through this neighborhood, smiling as children of all ages ran around the lawns and sidewalks. The lawns were all nicely trimmed and taken care of.

I like children, have a few nieces I visit from time to time. But my passion has never been for having any. And Lizzie has never asked me for a kid. That is, until recently. Right before I left for Asia she mentioned the fact that a baby would be, ummmm, I believe the word she used was 'fun.' I didn't say anything to her then, since I didn't really know what to say. But before I left I did come to this neighborhood, where children seem to pop out like bunnies on steroids.

I guess I was hoping for some inspiration. For something in me to snap and make it so I'd actually want to live in one of these big homes and have to take care of the lawn all the time. And maybe to make it so I'd actually want to add my own kid into the mix of little tyrants running around the place.

Yeah, I felt nothing.

But I'll move here, for Lizzie, if she wants to. I'll even get her pregnant, if she wants to be.

Is that a bad reason to have a kid? I think it is. We're a little old anyhow, that's not good for a baby right?

Uhhum, not the point! While I was driving around here I found a single house for sale, and I checked it out. I remember it well because it was the only house in the area that was painted green. An ugly light green that looked terrible with the home's red roof. The house was narrower than the other houses, but still had two stories.

It was a house of such lower quality than its neighbors I figure that there is no way that it has been sold in just one short month.

And let's see, turn left here.

Drive straight past that axe serial killer looking tree.

Ugh so creepy, how is that thing even legal to grow here? Kill it with fire.

Ok, Turn another left here.

And YES here we go!

I slowly pull my car up in front of the familiar green home. The 'For Sale' sign is still lodged into the front lawn, the sign itself rocking with the wind. I park my car out front and get out. It was almost past midnight, and no one was around. I do one last cautionary look around, then I walk around and pop open my trunk.

It was time to get this started.

Sometimes plans are stupid. But if you start em' you might as well end em' with everything you've got.

* * *

It took two hours before set up was finished. And by the end I had four giant cushions covered in fake leaves that I had to painstakingly paste one by one onto the material.

Five video cameras were set up around the house. I wired all of them until I had five little screens playing all at once onto the screen of my backup laptop. The bigger of my two laptops. The feeds were displaying all possible entrances into the house. I had two upstairs one down each hallway. Another two down here, one in the kitchen monitoring the back door, and another watching the hallway to the front door, the door closest to my location now.

I had another camera outside, facing the largest area of land on the left side of the house. But with nothing to look at from that camera but a screen full of grass I didn't look at it as much as the others.

All of this took a lot of wiring, and a lot of craftsmanship. But trust me when I say that there are worse conditions to do this under than a nice ugly little house in the suburbs.

And that's how I spent my night. Sitting in an empty living room with my laptop and camera laid out innocently in front of me.

I thought about bringing more than one camera, but I have a feeling that I will only have one shot at this. Literally.

After a while of just sitting around starting at a boring computer screen, I finally get the galls to open my camera pack and take out a package of trail mix, the kind with more peanuts and m&ms than cashews and almonds.

A full time hiker's worse nightmare.

Trail mix like this is like the McDonald's of the fast food industry.

But it'll have to do.

I don't look at my trail mix to see what I grab as I stuff my face. I continue to pop them into my mouth. Every once in a while tipping my head back sharply as the food goes down my throat, just for the fun imagery of me taking a shot of peanuts.

I was taking another 'pea shot,' when I felt my pants start to buzz.

Oh wait, just my phone.

Still keeping two bored eyes on the laptop screen in front of me I take out my smartphone and answer the call.

Wait…. Who is calling me at two in the morning?

"Hello," I say. My voice sounds muffled since I was talking with my mouth full of crappy trail mix.

 _"Randy? Were the hell are you?"_

It was Lizzie.

"Hey Liz! I know it's late, but I'll be there when you wake up. Just go back to sleep," I say putting back the trail mix.

I wasn't feeling very hungry anymore.

 _"'Go back to bed?' Are you kidding me!? You've been back almost a week and you haven't spent a single night in your own bed with me! What are you doing every night!?"_

I round my shoulders at her words. I don't know why she is angry. I've been spending plenty of time with her. I eat breakfast with her every morning. I only sleep when she is at work. I spend a couple hours with her every day after she gets home from work. Then I leave when it gets dark enough to start looking for them. What does she have to complain about?

"Liz this is important, this picture is ve~ry important to me. And the only chance I have to get it is at night. No one else can get this shot Liz, just me! I'll see you at breakfast right? There's no problem."

 _"A picture? This whole thing is about a picture!? You mean the thing that you have been doing your whole life when you're away from home!? And apparently it's all you can do when you are home!"_

"Liz, you don't understand. This is going to be something incredible. You should join me? We could both wait on the roof together tomorrow night and I'll let you borrow my camera an-"

 _"NO! You're obsessed Randy, fucking obsessed! Why don't you just come home? Pretty soon you'll be out on another trip, and then you can take all the pictures you want."_

I don't say anything for a moment. I just let the silence hang there.

Whatever fight we are having it didn't need to involve cussing. There was no need for her to cuss. Neither of us cuss often, but the fact that she did means that she is pretty pissed. She doesn't understand, I can't I-

A picture.

A picture of them.

Just one.

One picture of them.

"I'm sorry Lizzie, I'll be home in the morning. But this is too important."

With that I hang up on her before she has to waste her breath trying to convince me to come home. And After a few minutes I notice that she doesn't try and call me back.

* * *

On some level…

Ok, on all levels, I agree with Lizzie. I am obsessive. But that isn't something that I hate about myself. I like my passion, my I-can-do-it attitude. It's gotten me pretty far in my career. And being any other way seems pretty damn boring to me.

Sometimes I wonder if I ever should have gotten married.

Joseph isn't married, and that works out fine for him.

I can remember back when Lizzie and I were both young. Back before I had my dream job at Naturalists Magazine. Back when I stayed in the states all year round only taking pictures of families or food.

Even back then Lizzie would always dress to impress. She had the fanciest outfits and little matching shoes. I would take her out everywhere and take pictures of her. It was like having my own personal model. I would take those photos home and edit them online, then frame them. It must have seemed romantic to her or something.

I would tell her about my dreams of going to other countries and taking pictures of all the wildlife there. And she would smile so big, and tell me how amazing that was. She would take me to the zoo and let me run around there all day like a sugar crazed five year old so I could take pictures of all the animals. And she'd laugh and laugh.

Lizzie was never good at taking pictures herself. When she did pick up a camera she would just point and shoot. Putting anything she was aiming at right in the middle of the frame. There is so much more to photography than that.

But still she always loved looking at my pictures. At my art.

When was it, when she stopped laughing when I gave her a new framed picture of herself? When was it when the charm of my dream coming true wore off for her?

When was it, when she stopped really looking at my shots? Oh she'd look at them to be nice. But I remember thinking vaguely how her eyes looked glassy, like she wasn't really paying attention. And her smile looked bored.

When did she stop caring?

And how? How could anyone stop caring, about this?

When I was young I had fantasies about her joining me on my photo taking adventures, at least the ones I did in the United States.

But it never ended up like that.

Maybe it was selfish to get married. I know what I wanted from my life. And she knew what I wanted too. But in this, I think I was the selfish one.

I stare harder at the laptop, almost glaring at the empty video feed that my cameras were taking.

My wife will have to wait for me. I need to take this picture. I'm the only one who can take this picture. No one else will understand.

A flicker on the outside camera catches my eye. Turn my head and stare hard at the feed.

What is that?

It moved!

What was that a-

I widen my eyes and lunge for my trusty camera.

That was an arm! A whole shoulder and an arm! It looked unnatural, as if whosevers body that was just fell onto the grass outside and accidentally ended up underneath the outside camera.

But who am I kidding, 'whosever?' That was no human's arm. Humans have five fingers last time I counted. Unless this poor man's missing a few ligaments that wasn't a human's arm.

It was them!

I strap my camera securely around my neck and race up the stairs. The arm appeared on the bottom left corner of the screen. Close to the house. But closer to the side windows, if I know animals at all, they will be heading for the windows upstairs. And even if they appear downstairs I'll see them, some of my best shots are taken from above.

To my luck, the stairs are carpeted, and my steps up here are silenced. As soon as I make it up the steps I throw myself onto the floor tucking myself against the crevice in the hallway between the floor and the wall. I start to army crawl towards the room I'm guessing the four might try to enter through. I bite down against the strap of my camera with my teeth and lift the device from the floor as I move eliminating all sounds.

On my out of country adventures I often get made fun of by the locals for how 'one,' I can be in the wilderness. I can crawl through the forests and jungles without making a single noteworthy sound. I taught myself to swim, without splashing, to wiggle under roots, without rustling the leaves.

Silence, you don't get animals without silence. And it may have been a joke, but it really is like becoming 'one,' with your environment. And compared to the twig snapping jungles of Asia, this carpeted house is a much more forgiving environment. I feel my muscles growing slack as I make my way across the hall. I feel the wall beside me, and the carpet under my arms.

And I don't make a single sound.

It happened fast. So fast I froze without even registering why I was freezing.

Four figures dashed out of the room I was going for and sprinted down the darkened hall. They zipped past me without even a glance downwards.

They were fast, faster than I imagined.

But worse they were silent. My ears are trained to hear anything. And I mean ANYTHING! These guys made no sound. They climbed through that window, and I heard nothing!

C'mon Randy! This is no time for that! Silence isn't the only way to capture an animal. You also need noise.

I shoot up from my place on the floor and turn in one solid practiced movement. And at the same time I make a small click with my tongue.

By now the four of them had made it to the end of the hall. At my small noise all four of them spin about at the exact same time. All of them look right at me in different stages of their turn. Their weapons up, my flash on, positioning perfect aaaaaaand…

*click*

The flash was blinding in the room. And I had enough sense in my adrenaline ridden mind to close my eyes at the crucial moment. I could still see the light behind my eyelids as I was already turning back around and sprinting for the window at the end of the hall.

I hear an angry "HEY!" from behind me, and another of them curse loudly.

They could talk.

Of course they can talk. My entire plan basically relied on them being able to read right? Don't be so surprised that they can talk.

I make it to the window without anyone catching me. Despite my age, I try to keep in shape, and I was a decent track runner in high school.

The window was already open, just for me, and I practically throw myself out of it. In midair I twist my body and straighten my back out for the fall.

Back when I first tried this trick somewhere in Australia I studied high jumpers on YouTube to see how they fell. I think I have their technique down pretty solid.

I crash land onto a bush sized cushion previously placed underneath this window. My breath leaves me with a deep 'oof,' when I hit. Fake leaves fly off of the bush in a dancing fluttering cloud of plastic all around me.

I hear one of them shout above me. I think it said 'holy cow,' and another, believe it or not, actually says 'are you ok?'

But I can't be sure since I was already rolling off of the cushion and booking it for my car. My car door was already unlocked and waiting for me. The keys still in the ignition.

I know I'm leaving my laptop with them. But that's my old laptop. And nothing is really on there anymore.

Hopefully.

I can hear them right behind me. Still chasing me, and let's face it, they are faster. I hear a rustle of chain and I throw myself to the grass as guess what? Yup, a real chain flies over my head. One of them retracts the chain and I begin to roll again to try and get back to my feet.

I have to roll even faster when I see a looming shadow fall over me. One of them was jumping at me, fist raised ready to punch my lights out when he lands.

Adrenaline made me strong. My silly looking roll across the ground became faster than a walk. I roll out of the punch loving ones way and back onto my feet. I make it to my car and wrench the door open.

The one that tried to punch me instead settles for punching my car window as I close the door in his face. I give a little 'urgh,' sound in fright, but other than that I make no noise as I turn the key to start my car.

The other three were hanging back from the scene. I could see one of them, the one with two sword things on his back, start fumbling for something in his belt. The other two just hang back, weird wooden sticks at the ready.

The one with his fist currently in my car grunts, and I can see little rivulets of blood start to make its way down his arm.

I put my petal to the metal and slam my foot down putting my car into reverse. I hear the one with the swords yell for, what was it, 'Ryle?' to get away from the car. I'm not too sure. It was hard to hear over my engine.

The punch loving fellow obeys and backs up, retracting his arm from where he was trying to grab me through the window. I back up and start speeding down the driveway.

I don't make it far before I feel one of my tires go.

It wasn't too surprising. But yeah I was pretty surprised.

I swerve for just a moment. But in reality, this was nothing. I've driven on worse terrain, in worse cars, trying to get to my various remote locations.

I feel my other back tire go, but this time I hardly even move off course. I just keep driving.

I knew I was wrecking my car.

I knew I'd have to buy new rims.

I knew I may not make it home in New York traffic like this.

But I got the shot.

Oh damn I got the shot!

I can't wait to tell Lizzie!


	2. Chapter 2- A Photographer

**You know after writing about the ninja turtles I did a lot of research on ninjas. It's pretty interesting. More important than the fighting a ninja has to learn how to walk, hide, see, and breath like a ninja They also have to be a master at disguise and blending into the culture around them.**

 **Huh, sounds a lot like the skills needed to be one of those traveling photographers. Weird.**

* * *

"Randy?"

Hmmmmm

"Randy?"

Wha?

"For god's sake Randy."

Lizzie? I feel my eyelids flutter open. A stream of familiar orange tinged light fills my sight. My orangeish brown bedroom curtains are closed and the morning light must be flooding through them.

Wait…. morning?

Oh man. I fell asleep didn't I?

I roll over and look at my wife. She is already dressed for work. With a fancy looking black jacket and pencil skirt, the only real color on her being a light blue blouse peeking out of the top of her coat. Her hair is already brushed and her makeup done.

I didn't mean to. When I finally made it home the adrenaline must have wore off, and after that I had no chance in a frozen hell of staying awake.

The sad part is I don't even remember making it to the bed. I think I have some memory of the hallway into this room. And I know I remember looking at Lizzie for a minute before even stepping towards the bed. But most of it is a blur. I was just so tired.

I'm getting too old for this.

"Liz, I'm so sorry," I say waking up a bit more every second as I realize what I've done, "I was just so tired, I didn't mean to fall asleep."

Lizzie makes some sort of snorting sound that I decide is just way too early to try and decode. "Whatever Randy, I didn't expect any less from you. But that's not the point. After I ate some breakfast this morning I went outside, and you know what I saw on my way out? Our car out in the parking lot, with our tires completely blown, and our frames deformed. Did you drive all the way home with flat tires? Because that's the only way I can think of for it to even be possible for those frames to be deformed so badly. Are you stupid? Do you even know how much this will cost? What the hell were you doing last night!?"

….ugh so early. It is so early for this. I'm looking at her with a lazy expression, still only half out from beneath our comforter. And honestly all I can think of is.

Couldn't this have waited till later?

She didn't have to wake me up.

"Uuuuhhh, Liz I had some trouble last night. I know it'll cost a lot to fix the car, but at least we live in New York. We don't really need a car here. Everything we could want is within walking distance."

"That's what you think," Lizzie snaps at me placing one hand onto her firm hip and cocking it. "I for one have friends I like to visit, and family. Did you ever think of that?"

"It was an accident, I'm sorry Liz, but just let it go now. I'll get it fixed," I say with a grumble. I know I shouldn't be talking to her like this. I learned a long time ago as a wild teenager that when you are in the wrong you should just man up and take the lecture. My only excuse is that it is six in the morning, crazy woman. And right now, I am crazy tired. And I'm starting to get tired of her constant attitude. You know sometimes you don't haaaave to complain. Sometimes you just don't have to.

"I won't 'let it go,' till I feel like it Randy! This is stupid! You can have no good excuse for this. We don't own a jeep! That is a regular normal human car out there. You can't go driving off into who knows where so you can take some pictures!"

I crawl out of my covers and sit on top of them. I'm thinking furiously about how to respond. And honestly nothing is coming to mind. In my desperation I say the only thing I can think of to make her happy. I know it would make me happy.

"I'm sorry, you're right Liz. Why don't I make it up to you when you get home? We can take a walk through Central Park together, I'll bring my camera and I'll take some beautiful pictures of you. I have a few ideas on where to place you, and I was even thinking that we could change your outfit halfway through so we could cover more scenery."

I look towards Lizzie to try and get a mental picture of her in some of the outfits I have in mind. I know of a yellow flowery one that was her favorite. A couple years back she mentioned that she'd like to have her picture taken in that one. I wonder if she still remembers she said that. I wonder if she'll be proud that I remembered that she'd said that, even after all these years.

My eyes make my way up her body and until I meet her own green orbs.

….What?

Liz looks like she's on the verge of tears. Her eyes don't just look glossy, like she's bored. They look shiny.

One tear spills over her eyelid and down her cheek. She wipes it away furiously. I make a small noise that I meant to be a 'hey,' kind of word, but doesn't really come out as much. I move towards her to try and give her a hug or something.

But she's already turning away.

"You just don't get it at all Randy!"

She left the room like that. No she left the entire apartment like that. And I was left here, on top of our unmade bed.

I don't get much time to process my disappointment in our latest coupley interaction. Because in my saddened haze I simply lay back down and fall back to sleep.

I wake up again hours later. I can tell that it has been hours because the light from the sun is no longer hitting my face. I look over at the bedside digital clock and find that it's a little past midday. Lizzie is definitely at work right now.

Groaning loudly I roll out of bed and let my bruised body purposely hit the floor with a loud thud that anybody downstairs must have heard.

The floor was carpeted, and believe it or not I actually like to wake up this way once in a while. Its kind of cool.

Half zombie walking, half human dragging I stumble out of my room and make my way into the kitchen. As I absentmindedly walk around I grab my camera from last night and my small main laptop from the couch and counter respectively.

I settle these items on top of the kitchen table and finish my morning with a small bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee. All my items were set. It was the perfect picture of an at home work setting. And it was time to get some work done.

Let's see just what I ruined my car for.

I take out a cord and attach my camera to the laptop. Having recently taken out all of the pictures from my memory card after I got back from my trip, the only pictures that are in my camera are the five that went off last night.

Out of the five, only one of them wasn't blurry.

I open the clear looking shot.

….

…..

Oooooh boy, it's better than not blurry! This is just what I wanted!

None of them were smiling in this picture. But it was still a work of art.

They are a work of art!

Even in the darkness of this picture the different shading of greens from the four of them contrast nicely with one another. Somehow making it look as if the two ones lighter in tone were placed in the middle on purpose. The two on the sides were a little closer than the two in the back and I can see the steel of their weapons brighten like silver with my flash.

Each one had a different bandana on. Something I didn't take too much notice in until now. But with this picture the difference in clothing looks more important. Like an identical twin who only changes one thing about their style, just to be defiant.

The purple one is the only one that isn't completely turned around in this shot. Only his head and the beginnings of his torso have moved towards the camera. With this the harsh lines and diamond like designs on the back of his shell are clearly visible.

The orange one looks horrified.

The red one surprised.

The blue one is glaring.

But it's all beautiful.

And so, so worth it. I knew I could get this right. I knew only I could get this right!

With a giant swig of coffee I get to work. It takes me a good two hours before I'm satisfied with the editing of the shot. I set up my top of the line colored printer and print three hard copies of the picture. And like before, I put those photos into a brown envelope, and make my way into my room.

Inside my room is a filing cabinet. One of those nice ones that come with a nice big lock, I open the cabinet just like I did only a few days ago for my Asian wildlife pictures and I file the folder away.

With that done I walk back to my laptop.

And I erase everything I have on the picture off of my computer. Then I do the same thing on my camera.

* * *

...It's late, but not too late. Lizzie is still awake. In fact I bet she hasn't even had dinner yet. I should take her out to dinner. A good husband would take her out to dinner.

But what would I talk to her about? What did I ever talk to her about?

She doesn't want to talk about photography. In fact she's getting angry every time I even mention it.

But what else can I talk about? What else do I talk about?

Not much apparently.

I just don't feel like it. I don't want to go out. It'll feel too much like a chore. I'd rather just sit up here imagining the stars that should be above my head. The familiar breeze feels nice on the roof of my apartment building. And despite the sirens in the distance, and honking from the street, it's silent and calm up here.

But peace just doesn't seem to last long for me. I hear someone land behind me. And I realize for a numbing second that I didn't bring anything with me to defend myself with. No knife, no pepper spray. And a gun? In New York City? Uh no, not likely.

I turn, but I think that the only reason I turn is because whoever is behind me gives me the luxury of turning.

Yup it's one of them.

Well shit.

The turtle tackles me. There's no other way to describe what it felt like he did. He used his heavily shelled body to pin my skinny human one onto the roof.

I notice that we are about the same height. So he's a relatively short fellow himself, but with his weight that sure won't matter to me. I'm screwed.

"Where is it?" the turtle asks calmly, in a downright creepy way. At this moment I'd have preferred the punch loving one to this creepy fellow. At least it was predictable to have your face bitten off in this situation.

"I said where is it?" the turtle asks again leaning more of his body weight onto my pinned neck and shoulders while he straddles my waist.

I give a little cough and make a noise signaling that I want to talk. He lets up and leans back a little. I can't see much in this darkness. But I can make out the outline of the features that just this morning I had studied and perfected for hours with the wonders of modern technology. I knew were every line and crevice rested on this one's face, which muscle bulged most prominently from his arms and legs. And in which lighting his lighter green skin looked the best in.

This one is the purple one. I don't even have to look at his headband to know.

I cough a few more times, more for the mental stimulation than for actual need. And then I speak. "Can you let me up?"

The turtle doesn't answer me. So I continue.

"I don't have any weapons on me. You can probably tell that by now. You saw how fast I can run. You know I can't make it off of this roof before you can grab me again. And I don't have a cell phone on me either. I only have my camera."

The turtle cocks his head, like he is studying me. I fight my face to remain neutral. For some reason my racing heart and brain doesn't know if it wants my face to smile or frown like a dying man. So I'm settling on neutral.

The turtle just looks at me for a moment longer. And then he gets up. He actually gets up! No face biting at all.

Oh c'mon, that's just a joke.

"Thank you," I say getting up and facing the purple turtle.

"Hand them over?" the thing says in that nice guy voice of his. He reaches his three fingered inhuman hand out to me palm up, as if I just have the photos on me to give to him right this second.

Not that that matters.

"No," I say, my voice sounds solid and sure. Maybe because I am solid and sure about this.

The turtle drops his hand in a frustrated sigh. "Why not?... Look Randy,"

Oh how nice, he knows my name.

"I know that you deleted all those pictures from your laptop."

Well I guess this one didn't feel that he was creepy enough before.

"I'm assuming that you deleted them from your camera? If not I'll have to break it right now so I hope you did."

"Yes," I say a little too quickly. To prove it I even bring up the 'empty memory,' screen in my display option.

Anything to keep my baby from being crushed.

The purple one nods approvingly at this bit of proof, "Good, and Randy," he says, "I know that you printed a few copies. Now why won't you give me those?"

I open my mouth, close it, and then open it again.

I realize that I never did expect to actually explain my reasoning to someone, not even to Lizzie. I guess I'm just surprised. I didn't realize that I never was going to talk about it. No one was going to understand so I was never going to explain.

But this one, this one deserves to know, if anyone does. The same goes for any animal I take a picture of. If any of them actually develops the intelligence to care.

He deserves the truth, so I tell him "I won't. I took your picture for a reason. I took it because I am one of those men who have dedicated their lives to their work. And that work is a recording of living things at their finest through life. My work is a recording of species and creatures through a lens. And I had a feeling that no one had a recording of your species. I took this picture for conservation. Not for humans, just for the pure sake of a recording in the form of an art. That is all. That is my life. And I won't 'give it' to you. What you think of your own species is irrelevant to me. Someday all of life on this Earth will be recorded through my camera. And you are a part of the life here. So you'll have to take it from me. And I'll just have to try and stop you."

There is a silence after my little speech. The speech that if I am honest with myself I had practiced in my head a thousand times without really thinking about it. Because it was all true, choppy and none of it made much sense. But it's just how things are in my head.

I expected the silence. I didn't expect the laughter that followed. The turtle starts laughing, sudden barks of chortles that end with the thing doubling over in its humor.

I stand frozen to the spot while it smiles and laughs gleefully at me.

"I can't believe it!" The purple turtle shouts in its strange glee slapping me on the back good naturedly. "I was curious, a common problem for me you can be sure. And I showed up here without any of my family, knowing that I was going to get you to explain yourself to me on why you deleted those pictures. I was so sure that there was no excuse you could give me. Nothing that you could tell me that would change my mind. But look at you! Look at what you have done my friend! Not only do I somehow not feel disturbed that you have a picture of my existence in your home, something that could kill me if ever brought to light. But I feel almost honored for you of all people to have it. You are a true photographer, I'm not sure of much else. But that much you are."

…..Honored.

He's honored?

Oh wow. Honored huh?

"Does this mean I can keep the picture?" I ask timidly sounding like a small child.

But in my defense, he can kick my ass.

"hmmmm," the turtle says thinking out loud, "Tell you what, I'll do you one better Randy. I'll give you one picture. I'll smile and pose, the whole human shebang! How does that sound? You'll only get one now. And for your health I would never tell any of my family about this if I were you. They will kill you if they find out."

The turtle said, even that last part, with a smile on his face.

I believe that threat, but the sudden excitement in my chest crushes any stray worrying thoughts on the matter.

"That would be amazing!" I shout fumbling with my camera to raise it. "I won't let you down! No one will see it, not even me when I'm done with it."

And so he posed. He stood up straight and leaned casually against his walking staff. As if he was having fun. He smiled right at the camera, his longer than human lips making the smile even wider. It was the smile of someone simply amused. Which is why I think, just as a personal added perk, he did all this on one foot. The raised one crossed behind the other ankle.

I took the shot.

And I put him right in the middle of the frame.

All moments caught on camera are important. All of them tell a story. But the happy ones really do come out the nicest.

The purple turtle leaves soon after with warnings of watching me for the rest of my life.

I just nod in grateful admiration at him.

I stand there on that roof a long time after the turtle leaves. Then I finally turn around and make my way to my apartment.

Where I'll be surrounded by one lonely wife, and one lifetime of perfect pictures.


End file.
